Laslo Herringbone

Laslo Herringbone
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Laslo Herringbone had not meant to fall asleep. He was just so tired,
and now he felt like a bear with a sore head. His throat was dry.
Herringbone walked into the kitchen and opened the refridgerator door.
"Where is my bottle?" he asked himself.
He popped his head into the refridgerator and retrieved two small
bottles of Coke, which he promptly set about to drink.
Herringbones long suffering partner, Max Beer, was writing a report at
his desk. On hearing Herringbone enter the room, he groaned in
desperation."Can`t you see I`m busy" he complained."Go back to your own
office."
Herringbone yawned."Now don`t be like that Max. We`re a team."
Max frowned."Let me remind you. We`re also a business! I`m carrying
you, Laslo. If you don`t smarten up your act, I will quit," he said,
gruffly. Laslo knew better than to argue with Max when he was in this
kind of mood
"How did you ever get to be a Private detective?" grumbled Max.
Herringbone opened his mouth to make some kind of explanation, but no
sound came out. He often wondered, what he was doing with his life. But
in his mind, he carried the unshakeable conviction that he would be a
great detective, one day. When that magical day would be, no one knew,
least of all Herringbone.
Max stroked his brow, contemplatively. "I`ll regret this," he
muttered. He turned to Herringbone, and bit the bottom of his lip.
"Look Laslo, I might have sounded a bit harsh. What I meant was we`ve
got little enough dough coming into this joint. If we want to survive
we need to work."
He smiled weakly at Herringbone. "I didn`t mean what I said. I know
you`re doing your best he said, winking at his partner,
knowingly.
Max was suddenly gripped by panic. He realised that Herringbone
couldn`t do any better, and that really scared him.
Herringbone picked up a dossier on Max`s desk, and examined it.
According to the document, Amalfi, the notorious bullion thief was
lying low at a hotel in East London. Surely, it was only a matter of
time before the authorities caught up with him. Somehow, although it
was known that Amalfi was in town, no police force in the country,
could pin anything on him.
Amalfi was also known as `Teflon man` because no evidence was ever
found that would hold in a court of law.
"I`ll find something on Amalfi" announced Herringbone confidently.
"You wait and see, if I don`t." Max stared at Herringbone over his
thick brimmed spectacles, sceptically. "Watch your butt, out there," he
warned him. But Herringbone paid scant attention.
Laslo, as always, had purchased his old Morris minor, at a car
auction, ten years earlier. It was practically a museum piece, when he
first acquired it.
However, although it would not win any beauty prizes, Herringbone
relied on his vehicle, to track down those he was being paid to
investigate.
And, if nothing else, Herringbone was satisfied to own, an effective
getaway vehicle.
It wasn`t clear to Herringbone, who his client was, although Max, had
confirmed, that a wealthy Texan had hired them to infiltrate Amalfi`s
hideout, for reasons that he would not disclose.
In his office, Herringbone had three golden rules printed on laminated
posters. Rule number one, `Be discreet. You`re life may depend on
it.`
Rule number two, ` Discretion is the better part of valour.`
Rule number three. `Always have a reliable getaway vehicle.`
Up until that moment, Herringbone had observed at least one of his
golden rules. One and two, he ignored or seemed unable to achieve, but
rule number three, was paramount to Herringbone. However, this was all
to change.
When Amalfi discovered that he was being pursued, he screeched to a
halt, and turned his car around, giving chase to the hapless detective.
Herringbone`s attempts at being discreet, had been foiled.
Although he loved his Morris Minor, it was not designed for speed.
Herringbone tore up the high street, in an attempt to lose the bullion
thief. However, his vehicle ground to a halt, and a door fell off the
car, as if to underline the point.
Herringbone scrambled out of the car. Amalfi rammed into the abandoned
Morris Minor, as the sleuth fled the scene. He needed to make a rapid
escape, and as luck would have it, a stationary Routemaster was parked
temporarily at the traffic lights. Amalfi jumped on the bus, and
watched as his car burst into flames.
He was not looking forward to explaining himself to Kandy, his wife.
As Herringbone anticipated, when he broke to her the news about the
car, Kandy was unimpressed.
"I ran into some trouble, when I was on a case today," he
explained.
"Where`s the car Laslo?" she asked him.
"I`ve not seen it for hours," Herringbone admitted.
"What!" she said in disbelief.
"Yes, it packed up. There was nothing I could do."
"I`m leaving you," said Kandy impulsively. "I can`t take this
anymore...It`s the same with everything you do."
Herringbone threw his hands up in horror. "Don`t go " he pleaded with
her. "I`ve almost cracked the case."
Kandy suddenly felt guilty. "I didn`t mean what I said. You know I love
you," she said, kissing him.
Herringbone`s heart leapt. "You`re a great detective," she whispered,
although Herringbone didn`t feel great.
The following day, Herringbone caught the bus to work. "I really miss
the car," he said, thinking aloud. Kandy had reminded him to call the
insurance company, but he decided to put that off, until later.
Max was nursing a hangover, when Herringbone walked into the office.
"Shush," complained Max. "It`s like last night at the Proms, in my
head."
Herringbone grinned. "You should cut down on the sauce," he advised
his partner.
"I`m the senior partner here Laslo, and don`t forget you that," Max
retorted. Herringbone looked suitably chastened.
"And another thing," added Max. "What the hell went wrong
yesterday?"
"I can explain that business with Amalfi," Herringbone said
quickly.
Max looked unconvinced.
"Amalfi rammed his car into me."
"A professional to the end," said Max, sarcastically. Herringbone
ignored the comment.
"Now I want you to place a bug in Amalfi`s house, but be discreet.
After yesterday`s caper, it will probably be fully guarded.
Max hesitated. "If there`s even one scratch on it, when you return it
to me, our friendship`s over," he shouted.
"No problem. I`ll treat it like it was my own," answered
Herringbone.
"You`d better not," warned Max, but Herringbone had gone, although his
partner`s hangover was there to stay.
Herringbone had learnt that Amalfi lived in a beautiful house in
Hertfordshire, that was almost impregnable. However, when he parked
Max`s car, Herringbone resorted to his well thought out plan.
At Radlett Street Park, two men from the Hot Air balloon company, were
waiting for him. Herringbone had hired the balloon, and was eager to
try it out. He received strange looks as he got into the balloon,
because he was wearing a `Leprechaun costume.`
However, since Herringbone was tall and lanky, the costume did not fit
well, and his legs were showing. The hot air balloon was released and
it was not long before they were flying over Amalfi`s house.
Herringbone jumped out of the balloon onto the roof of the house. He
found an unlocked window above the criminals study. Herringbone stepped
into the study, and inadvertantly, knocked an ashtray onto the marble
floor. As it fell, it smashed into tiny shards of glass.
"Quiet," he whispered, but the damage was done. Seconds later, two
security guards had been alerted to his presence. Herringbone rushed
out of the bedroom, but was confronted by the guards, in the grounds of
Amalfi`s estate.
"Hello, I`m lost" he said, implausibly. "I`m looking for the
children`s party. I`ve got a gig here." The guards started shooting
wildly, in Herringbone`s direction.
He ran for his life. Somehow, Herringbone managed to dodge a volley of
bullets, but as he fled, he shouted out his wife`s name, in a blind
panic.
The guards laughed at him, because they had never seen a leprechaun,
run for his life before. Herringbone was relieved to find the car, he
had parked at Radlett street park.
He drove quickly, back into London. When he arrived back at the
office, he was panting for breath, and still wearing the leprechaun
garb. On Max`s desk, Herringbone found a note. He read the note
carefully. "I`ve had enough of being a Private Investigator. Sorry
Laslo. I`m moving to the U.S. near Florida, because my wife`s brother,
owns a supermarket there, and he`s offered me a share of the pie. Good
luck, laslo. You`ll need it. The agency is now all yours."
Herringbone read the note again. He was astonished, although he felt
sure Kandy would be pleased. From modest beginnings, thus began the
Herringbone legend.

WRITTEN BY J.S.HERSCOVITCH
COPYRIGHT
16-10-01

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